In Circles and On Tangents
by DorkQueen
Summary: A chance meeting outside a mysterious door gives Lily Evans insight on James Potter's wide array of annoying qualities, among which include being infuriatingly enigmatic and skillfull at manipulating conversations.


**Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series.**

* * *

Her feet seemed to move on their own, as if the Imperius Curse had been cast on them. They dragged Lily across the remaining yards of floorboard until her face was just a few inches from the wooden arched slab that didn't quite blend into the surrounding walls.

When her eyes flickered to the tiny knob, she saw that it had disappeared completely under the pale skin of her hand.

"Now, what do you think you're doing, Evans?"

Lily let out a sharp gasp as her hand flung itself away from the knob. _I know that voice, _her mind sang. It noted the drawling, bored-like tone and the sharply accentuated t's, revealing a prevailing aristocratic accent. It was exactly as Lily turned around that her mind matched the voice with the face in front of her eyes.

James Potter stood in the stance that seemed to be currently popular among the Hogwarts fourth-year boys: one foot stepped in front of the other, hands thrust in pockets, shoulders slouching, head tilted downward. It was the perfect rebel pose, and Lily suspected that Potter had created it.

Her attention soon shifted to his face, which was currently wearing an expression Lily's mother had often wore when she was younger and tried to snitch from the cookie jar. A stern and reproachful façade—underneath of which was amusement and affection.

Seeing it on Potter's face infuriated Lily. She did not know him intimately—they moved in different circles—but had seen more than enough of his strutting around and looking down on everyone like he owned Hogwarts. Who cared if his family was wealthy and prestigious; _it does not make him any better than me or anyone else_, she thought firmly, _and therefore he has no right to act like he's above us all._

"Where did you come from?" she asked, her voice sharp. She had not heard any footsteps or other indications of his arrival before his voice.

Potter waved in a vague direction. "Here, there, the Marauders are everywhere."

"That's not creepy at all," Lily muttered. Raising her voice, she said, "Don't you have somewhere to be?"

"No," Potter answered.

"Why are you out here then?"

"Does a person have to have a reason for being where they are?"

Lily wasn't sure how to reply to that. After a pause, she said, "Well, it's late."

"Your point?"

_Stop replying in questions, _she wanted to yell at him. "At this time of hour, a sane person is usually snuggling into their blankets in a warm, cozy bed."

Potter raised his eyebrow and gave her an amused smile. "The tea pot calls the kettle black."

Lily felt her cheeks burn. He had no idea how much she longed for her soft, little bed in the girls' dormitory right now.

"_I_ was at Slughorn's party," she told him haughtily.

"_Was_," he echoed. "Since I remember Slughorn's office to be on the sixth floor, the question now is what you're doing here."

"I remember asking you the same thing, and you evaded my question, so I don't see why I should answer yours."

They stared at each other, his gaze curious, hers testy.

"Well, that's your choice. No matter, we have plenty of time to talk in circles," Potter said cheerfully.

Lily was uncertain of many things right then, but she knew without a doubt that she had no intention of spending the rest of the night in a cold, dim passageway with _him_. "Listen, Potter, this was a nice chat, but I'd better be going."

She cast a last glance behind Potter at the passageway she had just come from, before turning around and steeling herself. Potter's arrival had distracted her from the door, but now that it was right in front of her, it dominated over any and all afterthoughts of a pointless conversation. Its lure was as strong as ever, whispering to her to reach out her hand, give it a little twist…

But before her arm could leave her side, she felt both of her arms grabbed and held together behind her back. She twisted and yanked her wrists, but the grip was too strong. Spinning around, she barked, "What the hell, Potter?"

"I'm afraid that door is off limits tonight."

Wasting her time was a small irritation; this, physical restraint, reached a whole new level. "Let me go."

"You have to promise not to open that door."

"Why?" Lily snapped.

Potter released her hands, his warm touch disappearing into the cold air, and stepped back. "Because some doors aren't meant to be opened."

Lily rubbed the sections of her skin that had reddened from Potter's clasp. Glaring at Potter, she reached a hand into her pocket and kept a cautious hold on her wand. "Thank you for that incredibly enigmatic and irrelevant piece of wisdom—"

"It was the _Daily Prophet_'s Quote of the Day."

"—but I'll go wherever I please, thank you very much."

Potter's eyes bore into her; Lily raised her chin and glared defiantly back at those muddy-colored eyes. She noted the specks of blue, green, and gray floating in the light caramel brown and thought with dismay that of course Potter's eyes would be indefinable, of course they couldn't be just one color because that would just be too easy and straightforward. No, even genetics conspired to make Potter annoyingly complicated in every single shape, form, and dimension.

The part of Lily's mind that wasn't busy criticizing Potter's eyes thought they were rather interesting, maybe even pretty.

As these two parts battled for control of Lily's thoughts, a slow smile crept onto the other's face that would've give Lily butterflies in her stomach if it had been on any other boy. On Potter, however, it was more infuriating than charming.

"You know, Evans," he said, conversationally, "I always pegged you as the innocent and wholesome type. The boring kind."

It was like he was deliberately trying to provoke her. "Just because some of us don't have eight-foot-long detention records doesn't necessarily mean we're boring."

Potter's smile grew wider. "I suppose I should've known better from that temper of yours."

"I have no clue what you're blathering about."

"Don't pretend, Evans. Ignoring the fact you're _here_, your monstrously high heels—I don't know why women wear them, they look like torture devices—are a major tip-off."

"I told you I was at a Slug Club party."

"_Was_," Potter said, smirking. "First time?"

"I've been going since second year," Lily corrected.

The smile vanished. A crease appeared between his eyebrows and he gave her a closer look. "Really?"

"Yes," she said, confused at his incredulous tone. She didn't like to brag, but everyone knew Professor Slughorn played favorites and Lily was one of the ones at the top. He was constantly praising her, to her combined embarrassment and pleasure, and let her make fun of him in class.

"No," Potter breathed. "No, you're having me on. I didn't even know about it until third year."

"Well, maybe if you weren't too busy smuggling Dungbombs…" Lily muttered, feeling increasingly uncomfortable as Potter continued eying her with a mixture of curiosity, disbelief, and wonderment. "Enough of this nonsense. Tell me why I can't go in there."

She gestured behind them to the door that she had been hindered twice by Potter from going through.

"How about a trade?"

She should've known better by now to expect a straightforward answer. "A trade?"

Potter's eyes were twinkling in the same way it had the morning when the Slytherin boys came into the Great Hall with shocking scarlet hair. "I'll answer your question if you answer mine."

Lily narrowed her eyes. She knew it was a bad idea, and yet she asked, "What's your question?"

"Who is it?"

Lily stared at him. "Pardon?"

"You know what I mean." To Lily's disbelief, the audacious prat _winked_ at her.

"No, I do not know what you mean," she snapped. "Are you always this cryptic, Potter? I'd like to ask your friends how on earth they put up with you. It's only been one conversation and yet I have no bloody clue about half the things you've said. Don't look at me like that," she said, catching Potter's expression. "If you'd actually talk like a normal human being, you know, in comprehensible sentences, maybe I wouldn't be so utterly clueless."

"I was trying to be _subtle_," Potter said with exasperation, "but if you want me to spell it out, I will. Who are you meeting here?"

"Meeting?" Lily repeated.

"In the loosest meaning, yes. I'm assuming I don't have to get more specific there."

"I'm not meeting anyone."

Potter wore a dubious look. "Come on, Evans, I won't tell anyone. I'm a fantastic secret keeper, you have no idea. Is it Anderson? Lerwick? It's Lerwick, isn't it?"

He kept his eyes carefully on her face, watching for a reaction.

"I told you, I'm not meeting anyone," Lily said. "Why would you think I was meeting anyone?"

"Why else would you be here?"

"I don't even know where here is!" Lily snapped, growing increasingly confused and frustrated.

"You told me you've been coming here since second year!"

Lily's brain made the connection. "I was talking about the Slug Club, you dolt! I've been in Slug Club since second year!"

The two stared at each other, both equally baffled. _And this is why I don't talk to James Potter often_, Lily thought scathingly.

It didn't take long for Potter to find his voice. "What are you doing here then?"

"I'm," Lily started. She paused and pursed her lips, trying to decide whether or not to confess. She relented with the knowledge that Potter probably knew the school better than anyone, having depleted the Gryffindor hourglass of so many rubies for sneaking out of school after curfew with Black, Lupin, and Pettigrew. He actually might be able to _help_ her—that is, if their conversation didn't make her strangle him first.

"I'm lost," she finished with a cringe, knowing what was to come next.

Potter stared at her. "Lost."

"I was a bit drowsy when I left the Slug Club party," Lily defended. "I might have made a few wrong turns here and there. The next thing I knew, I was walking for ages in this passage and ended up here."

"You got _lost_." There was a mocking grin on Potter's face now that he recovered from his initial surprise. "The great Miss I-know-everything got _lost_? Wait till I tell Sirius."

Lily glared at him. "Don't you dare act as if you haven't ever gotten lost."

"The Marauders don't get _lost_," Potter said, injecting as much contempt as possible into the word. "You're never lost if you can find your bearings and find your way back. And we always find our way back."

"Then I suppose you can tell me where I am," Lily challenged.

"We're in the West Wing and just a wall away from the dungeons."

Lily considered this. "And where does the door lead to?"

Potter's lips curved up. "Well, where do you think the door leads to?"

Lily bit her lip. "Well, I had hoped it would lead to the Gryffindor corridor…" Potter's laughter rang in the dim passageway, a husky, rather pleasant sound.

"It was a real possibility," she defended, her cheeks growing hot. To her own ears, it sounded like a lame excuse for a ridiculous theory. "One can never know where Hogwarts will throw them. The castle's constantly changing! Wasn't it just a week ago that someone had discovered a corridor next to the third floor Charms classroom? And everyone sworn it hadn't been there before!"

"The Gryffindor common room," Potter chuckled, bent over with mirth. "Merlin, Evans. Best thing I've heard all day."

"Remember our trade," she reminded him. "Why did you stop me from opening the door?"

"And stop you from making possibly the biggest mistake of your life thus far?" Potter added, still snorting. "Come on, Evans, you're a clever witch. I've practically told you."

Lily furrowed her eyebrows. She passed over all Potter's previous cryptic statements and relieved the suggestive wink he had given her. "Oh."

"_Oh_," Potter echoed mockingly. "We call it the Great Closet. Not many people know about it, so it's a much more convenient romantic rendezvous than the Astronomy Tower."

Lily's cheeks warmed up again and she averted her eyes away from Potter's, away from the door's. The floor was _such _a handsome shade of reddish brown. Cherrywood, she guessed. Or perhaps mahogany? She could never tell the difference; her sister, on the other hand, was a self-proclaimed expert on wood and all other home furnishings.

"I shall tell Charlotte, you know," she said sternly. Her eyes flickered up.

Potter looked amused and more than a little scornful at the mention of the Head Girl. "Don't bother. She already knows." He grinned. "Courtesy of the Head Boy, I might add."

Lily was scandalized.

"And the Head Boy got his intel directly from the people who discovered the Great Closet," Potter went on. He raised his eyebrows at Lily and frowned at her disappointedly when she gave him a blank look. "The Marauders, of course."

"Disgraceful," Lily muttered.

"The whole system's a sham," Potter agreed cheerfully. "Sorry I had to be the one to break it to you, Evans."

She frowned at him. "What are _you_ doing here, anyways?"

"Oh, you know. Just bumming around."

She thought she saw Potter's jaw tighten, just a teensy bit. "Any particular reason why you chose the—the _Great Closet_ to haunt? Hang on, are you waiting for someone?"

"Now, that's none of your business, is it?" His smile now seemed forced. Lily was taken aback at the abrupt change in tone. In just a few seconds, Potter had gone from overly friendly and teasing to cool and hostile.

"If you recall, Potter, I'm a prefect," she told him rather pompously. "I should take off points and assign you a week of detention for being out after curfew."

"But you won't if I tell you the reason why?" Potter finished, with a raise of his eyebrows. "I thought you took your prefect duties seriously. I guess corruption in the system is spreading at a rate more rapidly than I had thought."

"I was going to say that I would suspend judgment until I heard your reason for disobeying curfew," Lily said, dropping the disapproving prefect act. "You're not just flippantly breaking the rules for a snog, are you? Come on, Potter, I told you why I was out."

She looked beseechingly at Potter, who averted his gaze. Lily watched him bite his lip and stare at the ground with an indecisive look, and she knew she had finally hit the mark. Potter might not respect authority, but he valued fairness and honor. It was one of the few things she had always respected about him.

"Sirius is in there," Potter said finally, jabbing a thumb towards the door. He looked up from the ground and gave Lily a hard look. "Don't judge him, alright? He's still trying to cope with his blasted family."

Lily softened. She knew about Sirius Black's recent disowning, practically everyone in Hogwarts did, as it had been his mother's goal to publically humiliate him through a Howler.

"So, I guess you could say that I'm standing guard," Potter continued. "In case Filch or his bloody cat happens to wander by. Or any lost prefects."

He gave Lily a wry smile. "He doesn't need any more trouble, not after McGonagall threatened him with probation yesterday."

Lily didn't ask about the incredibly reckless and idiotic acts Black must have committed in order to earn that threat. Instead, she marveled, "He's been threatened with academic probation, and you're simply going to stand here and cover for him."

Potter's eyebrows drew together. "What else am I supposed do?"

"I dunno, get him out of there?" she said sarcastically. "Talk to him?"

Potter scoffed. "You don't understand, Evans. Blokes don't talk about their _feelings_."

"No, _your _coping mechanism is to distract yourself with…what, girls and booze? And pranks?" Lily said. "For Merlin's sake, Potter, your best friend is on the edge of academic probation. He could be _expelled_."

"Dumbledore wouldn't do that," Potter argued, but he didn't sound so sure.

Lily opened her mouth to retort, but instead a yawn came out and she realized that _bloody hell_, she had been standing there for who knew how long with _Potter_, discussing his best friend. She pinched herself, as characters did in books, to make sure she wasn't dreaming.

"Well, anyhow, I won't take off points," she said. "But do make Black see some sense, will you?"

She didn't wait for his response. "Listen, this has been an eventful evening, but I'd best be on my way to bed."

She looked expectantly at Potter, who gave her directions to the Gryffindor tower that were surprisingly clear and straightforward, compared to their recent conversation.

* * *

As Lily plodded down the passageway, the boy behind watched until the tiny speck of flaming red flickered away. With a curious expression lingering on his face, he retreated into the corner between the main passageway and the corridor leading up to the Great Closet. His invisibility cloak was carelessly sprawled over the floor, where he had thrown it off when he saw Evans reach for the door.

He stared at the infamous door. He couldn't just barge in and demand to talk—the very thought was ludicrous. Who knew what scene he'd barge in on, and his best mate would think he was crazy.

A grin spread across his face as he reviewed the map of nearby rooms. There was a perfect little air vent opening on the floor right above the Great Closet. If he made just a few modifications to the _Aguamenti _spell, his best friend would come out drenched and swearing all past and future Potters to hell.

Really, it was all thanks to Lily Evans.


End file.
